Insomnia
by ninz
Summary: My first and probably only ever slash story [DM, of course] in which Danny has trouble sleeping and Martin is worrying... complete! please R
1. Chapter 1

Author's notes: Don't worry I haven't forgotten about my other stories!

Not mine… the characters I mean!

First of all; a few explanations:

This is my first and probably only ever WaT-slash-story. I've read a few Danny-Martin-Stories lately and (although it's taken some getting used to) I kinda like the idea of the two cuties together… ;-)

I think this takes places some time at the end of season four even though I don't know what happens during the second half of the fourth season as the episodes haven't been aired on TV in Germany yet (which I find pretty much annoying…). However, this has to be after the events of endgame/showdown.

I don't now why, but this one only seemed to work out as a D/M-story so if you don't like it or don't like the two boys, don't bother reading. But if you do, please read and review! If you've read one of my stories before you know I really appreciate others taking the time to make a comment:-)

Enjoy

Danny turned over in the bed. Not for the first time that night. Actually he was sure to have turned for maybe the tenth time in about as many minutes. He was now lying turned towards Martin so he could watch his lover as he slept peacefully.

Danny felt anger well up inside him. That wasn't normal.

_Normally_ he would have liked watching Martin sleep. He was usually the first one to fall asleep – almost every night, actually. But _normally_ Danny wouldn't have minded. He just didn't get tired enough as early in the evening as Martin did, even after they'd had sex and Martin would fall asleep within minutes, exhausted, Danny would often stake awake, sometimes he would even get out of bed and walk over to the window. In warmer nights he would open it, sit on the window-still and look down on the moonlit streets. It was enjoyable, especially since he wouldn't have been able to do so back in his own apartment, always afraid that to someone outside he might look like he was about to commit suicide by jumping out the window on the eighth floor.

But tonight Danny had already spend one hour sitting on Martin's window-still, lost in thought, gone to bed, found that he just couldn't sleep – again! – and had got up again, to spent another hour, in front of the TV this time, and finally had gone back to bed again – still unable to relax, though, despite being exhausted from sex, work and all the time he'd spent lying awake at night during the last few days.

And now it was making him angry. Watching Martin sleep peacefully. How could he? And why couldn't Danny?

A look at the alarm-clock on the cup-board next to the bed made Danny groan; less than three hours until he'd have to get up for work again. So little time that it was almost better to totally forget about sleeping and try to get at least some rest in front of the TV. That would keep him from thinking, anyway.

The longer he considered it, the better the option seemed to him. After all, it was better than to lie in bed awake, wondering how the hell it could have come to this. It wasn't like he'd never had sleepless nights before, but mostly those nights had been during those days, years ago, when he'd just quit drinking – for good.

Yet during the previous weeks Danny had developed a real bed case of insomnia, and though he kept trying he couldn't find any convincing reason to explain why. Sure, he did have a lot on his mind, with his brother back in jail, a few tough cases, the shooting, looking after Martin and helping him through his rough times – but hadn't his life always been like that?

Danny couldn't think of any times when he hadn't been worrying over something, some kind of trouble that seemed insolvable, yet over the past ten years those troubles had never been able to keep him awake almost every night for over a week.

He knew everybody was worrying, It wasn't a secret he had trouble sleeping, there was no way he could hide it, especially not from Martin, He looked over at his lover, just the same moment as Martin stirred slightly and gave a tiny snore before falling back to sleeping silently like a baby.

There was nothing else he could do, so Danny got up finally and went into the living-room to keep his mind occupied by a movie rather than staring holes into the ceiling and wondering what was wrong with him.


	2. Chapter 2

The moment he woke up, Martin knew he was alone in the bed. Even if he wasn't used to wake up in his lover's arms – they would usually sleep each on their own side of the bed – the feeling was different when Danny was there.

Looking at the alarm-clock he found out why the stupid thing hadn't gone off to wake him – it was only 5.46 which was fourteen minutes before Martin would have to get up. Yet, with a groan, he pushed away the blanket, sat up, still slightly groggy after just having woken up, and swung his feet over to set them on the ground and finally stand up.

It wasn't unusual for him to wake up before the alarm went off – unlike Danny who'd never open an eye before the annoyingly high-pitched sound pulled him from his dreams – yet, he'd never get up before it. But staying in bed alone wasn't the same.

On a normal morning Martin would have rolled over so he could face Danny and watch the amusing every-morning-sight of his lover fighting against the alarm-clock. After Danny had turned the thing off (Martin was always afraid that some day Danny might slam the clock into the bedroom wall in his half-awake morning rage), he'd usually turn around and would be back to sleep within no time, leaving it to Martin to wake him up again.

Martin sighed with a smile on his face, thinking about it. It was always a drag getting Danny out of bed in the mornings, making Martin wonder how his lover had been able to make it on time for work every morning before he'd moved in with him.

Of course, being asked, Danny had had an explanation for it – like he had an explanation for all of his common or uncommon habits – and Martin hadn't been able to stop laughing for a while after he'd heard about the complicated system of alarm-clocks well placed, guiding Danny's way to the bathroom: "The one that goes off last usually sits beside the shower and once I've gone that far to turn it of I can as well move on into the shower."

It still made Martin grin, thinking of it. _Usually_.

But nothing was like their usual morning routine, lately. And Martin didn't feel like grinning that morning. He walked towards the bedroom door and opened to be greeted by the smell of freshly brewed coffee and a good breakfast, which was just being cooked.

It rarely happened that Danny was the one making breakfast for them, only sometimes on Sundays, after they'd both slept in. But when he did, he did it perfectly. Not only he would make coffee, he even cared to cook a full English breakfast for Martin, just the way he liked it.

Martin couldn't remember when he picked up the habit of having a full warm meal in the morning, but he did remember his mother cooking it for the whole family when he was a kid. The habit had been forgotten for a while when he'd lived alone, until Danny had revived it, after the shooting incident and all that had followed it, eager to feed Martin up, since he'd lost a good amount of weight through it all.

Martin entered the kitchen to find Danny sitting on the table (he seemed to have an aversion to sitting on chairs the common way), dressed in boxers and a loose-fitting t-shirt, watching over the meal he was cooking. He offered Martin a smile, when he opened the door, but Martin didn't miss the signs of yet another sleepless night on Danny's face; most appalling of all the dark circles underneath his eyes that stuck out against the pallor of his skin.

Yet, Danny greeted him cheerfully. "Morning, sunshine. Slept well?"

"Yeah", Martin sighed walking over and placing a soft kiss on his lover's unshaved cheek. "What 'bout you?"

Danny didn't answer. Instead he stood up and walked over to turn the bacon that was in the pan.

"Did you sleep at all?" Martin asked now, unable to keep the concerned tone out of his low voice.

Danny turned around to face him, a mixture of anger and annoyance visible in his dark eyes – which seemed small from the lack of sleep. "Can we not talk about it?" he demanded taking the pan off the heat and putting it on the table. Then the smile returned to his face although it was obvious it cost him quite some effort. "I've made you breakfast. You want coffee as well?"

Martin sighed, sitting down at the table. "Sure. Thanks."

He didn't want to argue with Danny so he sat silently watching as his lover poured them each a cup of steaming hot coffee and eventually sat down opposite Martin, clutching his own cup with both hands, occasionally taking a sip. He made no effort to get himself anything to eat (Danny didn't like fatty foods in the morning so the English breakfast consisting of scrambled eggs and bacon was usually made only for Martin), and they sat in silence each of them lost in thoughts.

Finally Danny stood up, put his empty cup into the sink leaving it there for being cleaned up later and made to leave the room. "Gonna take a shower", he mumbled, barely audible.

"No breakfast again?" Martin asked, his now obvious concern emphasized by a frown.

"'m not hungry…"

"You never seem to be hungry at all, lately."

But Danny probably didn't even hear the last comment – and if he did, he obviously chose to ignore it – but then again, the door had already closed behind him and Martin found himself left alone in the kitchen, with himself listening to what he was saying.


	3. Chapter 3

Danny entered the bathroom to find himself confronted with his own reflection without a warning. He shook his head at himself, he should have known. But now that he'd seen it he couldn't help but remain in front of the mirror for a long moment staring at the vaguely familiar face that kept staring back at him; deep brown eyes, that once shone with energy but were now small and dark from lack of sleep, the former summer tanned skin drained of all colour and the hollowing cheeks, making him look sick and gaunt… and then there were also those dirk circles underneath his eyes.

Growing tired of staring at the depressing picture Danny stuck his tongue out at his reflection and moved on to his usual morning routine. He was about to get into the shower when there came the knock on the door he'd been expecting and Martin's voice calling his name.

"I'll just be a few minutes", he shouted back knowing fully well, that it wasn't what this was about.

He hadn't expected Martin to be as adamant as he was but eventually Danny couldn't take the constant noise of knocking and shouting any longer. Obviously Martin wasn't going to have being ignored today and – as it happened rarely enough – Danny finally was the one to give in. He unlocked the door, now showered and clad in a fresh pair of boxers, but not yet shaved and he hadn't brushed his teeth, either.

With a force that wasn't at all typical for him Martin pushed the door open as soon as there had been the sound of the key being turned in the lock and Danny found himself in the unpleasant situation of standing almost completely exposed opposite his lover, who'd put on a face that looked a lot more worried than Danny thought he could bear.

"I just phoned Jack", Martin informed him, completely calm as if nothing had happened. "I told him you're not coming in today."

"You what?" Danny asked exasperated, unwilling to believe, even for a moment, that what Martin had just said was true.

But Martin repeated it, his voice still sounding unimpressed even though he had to know about the blow that had to come – and did fail to come. But Martin waited patiently until Danny had calmed down enough to listen to him speaking again: "Listen, Danny, you think the way you look, Jack wouldn't have sent you straight back home?"

"No…" Danny shook his head stubbornly although he knew he was being childish now. "It's none of his business, is it?"

"If you screw up on the job because you're not fit to work, it is his business. And it's not like him and the others haven't noticed anything or didn't care at all, you know that, Danny. Jack said, he's even been thinking 'bout making you an appointment with Dr. Harris."

At the mention of the office shrink – as Lisa Harris was often being referred to – Danny winced noticeably. It was the last he'd need, somebody to come poking and prodding in his mind, trying to dig up us much as possible of his miserable past and analyze it. He knew his attitude towards this option was visible, even more so when Martin reacted on it:

"See, that's why I told Jack you're not coming at all."

"How'd he take it?"

"He wasn't happy, but there's still four of you left so he was ok with. Anyway, he said, you'd probably get sick if you don't get to rest some time soon. – And that's what I think, too, by the way", Martin said sounding serious. "I'm sorry, Danny, although I can't really see what is so bad about taking a sick day."

Danny couldn't bring himself to answer for a while, for two reasons: one, he was still angry with Martin and right now he was in the mood to sulk and two, he couldn't think of anything to say. "Nothing", he finally admitted. "It's just… embarrassing that's all."

"What? Being sick?"

"No, you calling in for me." Danny explained in a small voice. He was staring to his feet now, suddenly feeling ashamed of himself. He had known all the time that Martin had been trying to help him but he'd pushed him away, feeling embarrassed at the thought of admitting that something wasn't ok. Danny didn't like not being ok, or rather; he didn't like anybody else _knowing_ he wasn't ok. Even Martin. His love. The person he'd been trying to share his life with despite knowing all the time what occurred to him once more in moments like this; it just wasn't possible to share every bit. At least not for him.

The silence between the two men was becoming uncomfortable so eventually Danny decided he didn't want to talk anymore and made to leave the bathroom but soon he was stopped by Martin grabbing his arm.

"What?" he demanded.

Martin had his best puppy dog look put on (and Danny couldn't help grinning despite his tenseness): "Just let me take you in my arms for a moment, please…"

Now Danny smiled. Moments like this he was happy to be with Martin, to know him by his side, no matter what. And so he let himself be pulled into a tight hug by the strong arms he loved so much and he enjoyed the sensation of the gentle hands that kept caressing slowly over his stiff back and he let himself be drowned in that touch that was just so… so Martin.

Eventually Danny pulled away from the hug and for the second time made to leave the bathroom not without slapping Martin's ass playfully before he left to show his lover things were going to be ok and he was going to be the old Danny, soon. "You gotta get ready, so you won't be late for work and have your ass kicked by your new boss."

Martin laughed at that.


	4. Chapter 4

Yep it's not finished, yet... (and I'm on holidays, so I got lots of time for writing; I'm trying to finish this before going away on holidays to Denmark for two weeks with no internet access...)

It was a long day for Martin Fitzgerald. Not just because the first weeks on a new job were always tough (and it had only been a short while since he'd left the missing person's team he'd been working with for almost four years to a different department, in order to be able to stay together with Danny as a couple) but also he couldn't remember ever having been that eager to get home to see how his lover was doing.

Around noon he found himself calling up Vivian not even knowing whether it was to check if Danny had stuck to his word and stayed at home or because, silently, he hoped for her know what to do about the situation.

"No, he's not come in today." Vivian's voiced sounded slightly amused but also filled with sympathy. They small-talked for a while about this and that until Martin saw his boss come round the corner and decided it was time to hang up, which Viv was more than ok with since she did have to get back to work as well.

"Oh, and Martin?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you take some advice?"

"Sure. Spill it; I'll take any advice at the moment."

"Don't try call or anything. Danny, I mean. Just leave him alone for a bit. You might doubt it, as he may seem vulnerable to you now, but he can handle it. He's gonna ask for help, if he really needs it but until then you'll just achieve the opposite by trying to get too involved in what he considers as being his own business."

Martin sighed. "That's gonna be hard, but I'll try. Thanks, Viv."

After what seemed like a never ending of boring desk work Martin arrived at home to find the place looking dark and somewhat deserted. Yet, as he turned on the light and carelessly loaded the bag of groceries he was carrying onto the kitchen table, Martin called out, softly:

"Danny? You home?"

There was no answer; Martin hadn't expected one, anyway. He removed the bag and was about to start to unpack it when he found the note; the bag had been lying on it. It simply said, "Fitzy, don't worry. Went to bed. You were right this morning. Love you" but it made Martin smile stupidly all over his face.

As he put away all the stuff he'd bought he realised it wasn't nearly enough to make the frigde look as well stocked up as it would if Danny had done it.

Martin didn't have the same experience; he rarely ever went to buy groceries; that had never been changed – not even by Danny and his constant nagging about his lover's unhealthy eating habits. ("I swear, Fitzy, one day, you're gonna wake up and find that you're fat! And don't think I'd be attracted to that." Martin had laughed at that comment.) It wasn't like Danny wasn't happy with a pizza or something from time to time as well but more often than not he liked to cook his own food – if he could muster the time for it – and therefore he usually made sure they weren't short of supplies.

But lately, as his had sleep gone, his appetite seemed have gone along with it and he hadn't bothered buying food at all. That was one of the things that worried Martin most; he didn't like the fact that Danny was skipping meals – and more than he could actually afford to.

Now Martins thoughts were interrupted by his own stomach, rumbling unreasonably loud complaining it hadn't been fed for a while. With a sigh, Martin turned on the oven.

After he'd eaten he decided to take a careful look into the bedroom see how his lover was; and found him for once sleeping soundly. Smiling to himself Martin returned to the small living-room and turned on the TV. He was exhausted, even though he didn't quite know for sure what from. He'd sat at his desk most of the day. But after thinking for a while he came to the conclusion that he was probably just exhausted from worrying too much.

There was nothing on TV he could bear to watch and so he decided to get an early night as well. He wasn't exactly sleepy, yet, but the thought of spending a little time with his lover without having to listen to him constantly nagging and snapping at him – which had become a little too common an occasion lately – enlightened his mood. And Danny was cute when he was asleep.

Ten minutes later Martin crawled under the thin summer covers making himself comfortable but not yet turning off the light. He had to resist the urge to pull Danny up close to himself and hold him tightly in his arms but was careful not to touch him at all – afraid that the slightest touch would disturb his much needed sleep.

So instead he watched him, studied the features he knew so well and had finally come to love – which had been a surprise, even to himself, to be completely honest. Martin had never considered himself being gay or the possibility that he could be with another man. Yet, he remembered those words his favourite aunt had once told him; love was for the person, not for their gender. Back then Martin had found it hard to believe those wise words but as the years passed by, he'd never forgot about them – and that meant a lot.

And then things with Danny had happened, all too quickly for Martin to even notice at first. Then it had been difficult until finally he'd given in, allowed himself to feel the way he did. But it had been confusing, strange somehow – and yet, it felt so right. Within days all doubts had vanished and he'd known that Danny was the right one.

And he still knew.


	5. Chapter 5

You might find this chapter a little disgusting – or maybe not. I just want you to feel warned…

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_The woman has turned their back towards them. She is a small and very skinny person, looking so frail that Danny is sure she'd break into pieces by the slightest touch. Not that he feels any urge to touch her anyway._

_She's standing there, back turned on him – and Sam – and she's crying, her shoulders heaving with the sobs. And every now and then she speaks but her voice sounds strange to him._

_Danny's beginning to feel uneasy, an uncertain feeling – he doesn't know where it comes from – putting a slight pressure on his stomach. Something isn't right, but he forces himself listen to what she is saying, pay attention to every squeaky sounding word that comes from her mouth._

_Her name is Mrs Kinkley – he doesn't know her first name – and her sixteen year old daughter has been missing for twenty-six hours now. There's little hope, Danny thinks, to find the girl alive – since it has taken the woman twenty hours to come forward. Twenty hours of her daughter missing and she finally decides to go for help. Danny still finds it hard to believe._

_Now she's standing here, crying her eyes out. _

"_Now, Mrs Kinkley, we need to know exactly; when was the last time you saw your daughter?" Sam asks shooting an annoyed glance at Danny who's remained silent since they've entered the house. _

"_You won't find her", the tiny woman just says in between her sobs. "She's gone for good."_

"_Mrs Kinkley, there's a good chance, we'll find her", Danny now finally tries to say reassuringly even though the strange feeling has become even more intense. He doesn't know what's causing this but he does know he wants to get out of this place as soon as possible. _

"_Mrs Kinkley", Sam starts to speak as well now._

"_You don't understand", the woman interrupts her, suddenly raising her squeaky voice and making the ever so cool Sam wince. "She left me. Can't blame her. With what I've done to her. If only I'd had a chance. But it was too strong…"_

"_What was too strong?" Sam demands to know._

"_The decease."_

"_Why would you think that?" Sam's adamant._

_Silence for a moment. A long moment. Danny is about to come to the conclusion he doesn't even want to know any more, when she speaks again._

"_Look."_

_Just the one word is sending shivers down his spine, unpleasant shivers, and he feels his stomach churn._

"_Look what it's done to me." And then she turns around to face Sam and Danny. Only – she has no face. Where there might have been the features of a normal looking woman once, there is nothing, only something… well, messy. Like an open wound. One eye is missing, as is the nose. The other eye looks blind and only still there is the mouth, like a black hole, moving as she repeated her sentence: "Look what it's done to me…"_

_There's a scream, making him wince…_

… and the next moment Danny found himself sitting bolt upright in bed, shaking and panting and sweating. He could feel his heart pounding fast in his chest and he needed a while to realise he had dreamt. And probably had been awoken by his own scream.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

"Danny?" a sleepy voice came from the dark beside him and Danny hurried to switch on the bedside lamp, suddenly unable to bear the dark. When the room was finally lit up he found Martin propped up on one elbow looking at him worriedly with still drowsy eyes. "Danny, what's wrong, baby?"

But he couldn't speak. The memory was still there, still Mrs Kinkley seemed to stare at him with her remaining eye, making him shiver.

Danny felt like crying. It was a mixture of what the memory of his dream and plain embarrassment of Martin seeing him like this, that caused it, and he couldn't do anything to avoid the tear that was running down his cheek. So he let it happen but turned his back on his lover so he didn't see it.

He heard Martin move and only seconds later felt a pair of strong arms that were wrapped around him, pulling him close – and so he gave in to the feeling of helplessness that taken over him and leant into the embrace.

Martin's hands were running up and down his body, soothingly, and finally Danny was able to stop shivering and finally calm his feelings.

None of them spoke for what seemed like eternity until finally Danny pulled away from Martin and turned around to look into his lover's eyes. They were full with worry, as to be expected, and Danny felt like a few reassuring words needed to be said. But as he tried to he found it hard to say anything at all.

Luckily Martin was good enough at guessing: "Had a bad dream?"

Danny forced a smile. "Really bad", he was finally able to get out, trying hard to sound as casual as usually but failed miserably.

"Wanna tell me 'bout it?" Martin asked, face soft with sympathy.

Danny didn't answer at first. Instead he rolled over to the far end of the bed, ready to get up, but somehow he couldn't gather the strength, and so he sat on the bed's edge, still breathing hard, head held up by his hands, elbows propped up on his thighs. He could hear every movement Martin made behind him and tried to concentrate on it rather than the returning pressure on his stomach.

But the pressure got too strong and, driven by the sudden urge to release it, Danny finally got to his feet to stumble to the bathroom and kneel in front of the toilet. Martin followed into the room only seconds later.

Danny would have thrown up, but his stomach was pretty much empty and all he was bringing up was a bit of bile causing his throat to hurt. If he hadn't felt so bad he would have wondered how so much nothingness could put up that much pressure, but in the current situation he was happy with letting Martin lead him back to the bedroom.

The sat, on the bed, in silence for a long while; Martin looking at him, patiently as much as questioningly. Finally, Danny felt like he was ready, ready to share the last secret of his past, that had been buried deep inside his memory for over two decades, that were now resurfacing, slowly, bit by bit.

An explanation for his sleeplessness.

Martin was just about to leave the room – to make them both some tea, as he said – when Danny spoke: "When I…" Already he hesitated, waiting for Martin to sit back down on the bed. He wanted to be sure he was listening. Then he continued: "…when I was nine, my mother found something strange underneath her right eye. It looked like… some kind of blister… she wanted to see a doctor. My father wouldn't let her. Costs too much money, he said. He also said it was probably nothing."

"It wasn't nothing, right?" Martin asked, listening carefully but was obviously surprised by what was happening. He obviously wasn't expecting a tale on his lover's childhood – as Danny had told him – not long ago – that there were no further facts about his past, he hadn't already told Martin about.

That hadn't been a lie. Although, strangely enough, it had felt like one – and now Danny finally knew why.

"It was cancer. A special kind of skin cancer."

"How did you find out?" The compassionate tone of Martin's voice made Danny want to stop that very moment and bury the memories again, deep in the back of his mind where they'd come from, but at the same time it gave him the courage to go on with it. The memories had resurfaced _now_ for a certain reason, and _now_ was the time to come to terms with it.

"It grew. Melting her face like a damn fire. I… I… I don't know how to explain it…"

"You don't have to…"

"…and the worse it got, the more my mother turned into a stranger. To us. My and… and my brother. Finally our father took her to the doctor. He said he'd have to operate. Cut it out auf her face. But that was too expensive."

Danny paused unsure how to go on. Martin was still looking at him, all calm on the outside – but the story had an affect on him as well, Danny could tell.

"You know how I told you once my parents died in a car accident?"

Martin nodded, slowly.

"The truth is… well, that was actually the truth but… well, the full truth is that it was like a release for my mother. She would have died in a few weeks time, anyway. The damn thing had destroyed the whole eye by that time and partly the nose was gone as well. Our father… he took her to the doctor, again, I had to come as well because I was only eleven by that time and there was nobody to look after me and also I wanted to go. I wanted my mother back. The accident happened on the way there. Maybe it was fate. But…But I felt so guilty afterwards…"

"… because you thought you'd caused the accident?"

Danny sighed. He'd told that story to Martin years ago, in a quiet moment. A case had made him think about it; he'd been vulnerable and Martin had been there for him. But now, as he sat there on the bed, finally making eye contact with his lover, he was beginning to ask himself it had been something else that had made him feel guilty. Something that made him so ashamed of himself, that he'd buried every thought of deep in his mind deeply enough that it should have never come up again.

Until the Kinkley case.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Ok here we go. Last chapter – as promised – before I'm going on holidays! In return don't forget to review!

Nothing spectacular in this chapter, though, just a little soppy ending… Enjoy!

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"Danny?" Martin looked at his lover, now worried again, who had remained silent for a long while now, sitting there and seemingly staring right through him.

Finally Danny's gaze became focused again looking Martin straight in the eyes and he started to speak, slowly, word by word. "I was happy, Martin."

"Happy?"

"Happy that she was gone. That's what made me feel guilty…"

"You shouldn't have been. It was probably the best for her. As you said – it was release from…"

Danny shook his head. "That wasn't the reason."

"So what was it then?" Martin asked, still sympathetically.

Danny shrugged breaking the eye contact and looking to the ground. "I was just happy I didn't have to see that horrid face every day, anymore. She wasn't our Mom anymore, Martin. She'd turned into a stranger and she was making me feel… scared."

Now Martin understood. The last information had put the puzzle together and he could almost feel the emotions that had to be going through Danny that very moment. Slowly he crawled over towards his lover and touched his shoulder, gently, before pulling him into a long, warm embrace. He felt the stiffness, the wincing at first touch, but eventually Danny relaxed in his arms.

After a while Martin bent forward a little to whisper into Danny's ear: "You think you may be able to sleep now? You think this kept you awake?"

"I dunno. But it could have caused it all. The sleepless started just shortly after the Kinkley case. Sam said she'd told you about it."

"Yeah, she did." Martin could remember; a very shook up Sam telling the story of scared teenage girl running away from a mother – who according to her – looked like a monster from a horror movie. "Oh my god, I should have known."

"You couldn't have known… I have never spoken to anyone about this, never ever. Not even to Raphi. We always pretended it never happened. Damn, I didn't even really remember this until tonight… But – as it seems – the past has caught up with me."

Caressing his lover's back Martin said: "I think you shouldn't have felt guilty about it. Still shouldn't feel guilty. You were just a kid. Scared, as you said yourself. And it must have been a terrible sight."

"Martin?"

"Yeah?"

"I really appreciate you trying to reassure me about that, but can we not talk about it anymore? I think I just had to get that out, but I don't want to… deepen it."

"Yeah, ok, but if you feel like talking…"

"Martin…"

"Yeah, ok… I understand."

"Can you just hold me? I think I'm very tired now. And I think I can sleep." As if to enhance his words Danny yawned elaborately.

"Yeah, sure… C'mere." And he pulled him even closer, wrapping his arms tightly around his lover's lean frame, ready to fall back to sleep himself and very unwillingly to ever let go of Danny.

His Danny.

– TheEnd –


End file.
